A house named Pesach

It was a regular weekend morning, a little lounging around in the early hours, cuddling with my boys. We started talking about our middle names, how Benjamin was a strong name and Michael was his grandfathers name. His namesake was smart and loving and stubborn, just like he was.

Then my youngest asked, “What is our house’s name?” I told him the house didn’t have a name. Although we had been the second owners in its entirety, so maybe we should give it a name. “I know”, chimed in my shayna ingl, “Pesach”. My eldest argued that wasn’t a proper name for a house, but I disagreed. That’s a perfect name for our house.

So our Pesach can always be a haven for our family, where all the drama and negativity and b’h’, even the Angel of Death will always pass over us, year round, not just during this week of celebration and reflection. Because in the end, we all want peace and love. We all want salvation and redemption. We all want to usher in the best versions of who we are and leave the bad habits at the door. We all have an Egypt in our lives, a place or way where we feel trapped, stuck, enslaved.

This Pesach, I wish each of you a week of evolution, protection and serenity. May you each have a “Pesach” place where you can be and feel only love and light. Chag sameach.

May the Schwartz be with you